<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Shelter from the Storm by purple_bookcover</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097034">Shelter from the Storm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover'>purple_bookcover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smoking, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:55:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nami can feel a storm bearing down on the crew, a big storm. She retreats to her room to ride it out, only to find Sanji cowering there in her closet. They ride out the storm together, surprised by the comfort they take in each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nami/Vinsmoke Sanji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shelter from the Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastprince/gifts">beastprince</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nami felt the storm coming.</p><p>She’d felt plenty of storms brewing, but this one promised to be especially nasty. It stuck in her gut like a lump of rotten food, something that would brew and boil and leave her nauseous. </p><p>She warned the rest of the crew, who dutifully retreated somewhere safe. It proved a thin comfort when Nami also shut herself in her room to ride out the squall. She locked the door behind her, slouching against it, allowing herself a sigh. They were a good crew. If anyone could weather this storm, it was them, but that was no guarantee of survival. If her intuition was right – and it was always right – this would be a big one.</p><p>Nami tried to draw a steadying breath, but as she did she smelled a faint, bitter odor of smoke. Not just any smoke. Something vaguely sweet cut through the tarry tackiness, something that lined her throat like ash. </p><p>She marched toward her closet, eyes narrowed even before she threw open the doors.</p><p>“Sanji, what the hell?”</p><p>He huddled inside her closet, crouched below the shirts and skirts and dresses hanging around him. He flinched away when she yelled, like her voice was the first blustery gusts of the storm barreling toward them. And he was smoking. <i>Smoking</i>. Right there in her closet. Her clothing would smell like Death-brand cigarettes for weeks.</p><p>Nami yanked him out by the collar, tossing him unceremoniously to the floor. He went willingly, a little too willingly. It was only when he sprawled there on the floor, already lighting a new cigarette, that her anger congealed into suspicion. He wasn’t fighting back. He wasn’t arguing. He was just … lying there, huddled up like a child clinging to a teddy bear. </p><p>“Are you … afraid?” Nami said. </p><p>Sanji didn’t respond and she crouched down beside him, setting a hand on his shoulder. </p><p>“Hey, we’ve got the best crew around,” Nami said. “We’re gonna be OK. I didn’t warn everyone so they could die miserably. I warned them so they could get us through this.”</p><p>He looked less than convinced, but pushed up to sit. His eyes flickered down her body, which she took as a positive sign. He was still coherent enough to ogle her. Nami bit back the angry comment she normally would have flung his way for his overt and frankly pathetic interest. </p><p>“I’m not scared,” he grumbled, in the most scared little voice she’d ever heard from him. </p><p>“Right,” Nami said. </p><p>She rolled her eyes, but stayed there on the floor beside him. Already, the ship was rocking a little more than usual. The gentle sway Nami didn’t usually notice was deepening into drunken rocking. She glanced around her room. Everything was nailed down. Her desk was tidy. She’d stored away her navigation tools and maps. The only thing that might jolt were the extra pillows on her bed. </p><p>Her bed. </p><p>Her gaze lingered there, but she immediately wanted to reject the notion. It was ridiculous. Right? Already, the ship groaned, as though grumbling at the prospect of what was to come. She’d be lying if she claimed she wasn’t worried; the temptation to replace fear with comfort gnawed at her. </p><p>“I think I know something that might make you feel a little better,” Nami said.</p><p>She stood, offering her hand, and he took it. His mouth fell open as she led him toward the bed, the cigarette nearly dropping out. </p><p>“Ew, not that,” she said. “Geeze. I just thought we could, you know, just … get under the covers and cuddle. Didn’t anyone ever do that with you as a kid when you woke up with a nightmare or something?”</p><p>He shook his head and Nami instantly regretted bringing up his family. She didn’t know the details, none of them really did, but she didn’t need to. It had been obvious. Something in her pinged in sympathy the moment she’d encountered his family. </p><p>“Sorry,” she said.</p><p>He didn’t seem to mind. When Nami threw back the covers, he followed her to the mattress. They lay on their sides facing each other, Sanji with that cigarette still in his mouth. On pure impulse, Nami cupped his hands in hers. His fingers shook just a little. She squeezed, providing the solidity he apparently lacked right now. </p><p>“Why are you doing this?” he said. “Not that I’m not grateful, but...”</p><p>“Shh,” she said. “If you keep talking I might just regret it.”</p><p>He clapped his mouth shut instantly. </p><p>“Besides,” Nami said, “it’s not like I’m totally immune to fear. I mean, I’m the one who can sense this damn thing coming.”</p><p>“Is it … is it gonna capsize us?” </p><p>Shit. That’s right. That’s where this all came from. He’d been shipwrecked while he was still a kid. The memory of that ordeal clouded his face, a pallid specter. </p><p>“No,” she said, “I don’t think so.” It was probably true. </p><p>“You’re sure?” he said.</p><p>“Of course I’m not sure, idiot,” she said. She softened her tone. “Sorry, I just mean, I can’t be sure. Not my job. But I have faith in the crew, don’t you?” </p><p>He nodded against her pillows, even as the ship gave an alarming lurch to port. It made the excess bedding slip to the floor and sent him sliding toward Nami, until their foreheads were nearly touching. Even as the ship steadied, they remained that way, hands clasped, scared breaths quivering between them, knees and toes mere centimeters from brushing together. </p><p>“I think,” Nami said, “that there’s something else that might help you not be scared.” She whispered, but it was only because he was so close. It was only because she could see every pale fleck in his eyes, could see the curl of his eyebrows, could see each individual hair of the neat goatee stippling his chin. </p><p>“What’s that?” he said, just as soft.</p><p>She knew she was being stupid, knew this was a tremendous mistake, but she nudged forward anyway, plucking the cigarette from his lips so she could kiss him there huddled in her bed. He did nothing at first. For all his bravado and flirtatiousness, he lay there stunned now that she’d made her move. </p><p>Then his hands slid up her back. Sanji pulled her across those final few centimeters, the last tenuous barrier between their bodies. Their legs tangled. Their chests pressed together. Heat clouded under the comforter, as though their bodies had created some warm vortex by their mere proximity. </p><p>The ship rolled. It tossed them sideways. They let it. Nami followed the momentum, ending up on her back with Sanji’s comforting weight atop her. </p><p>He paused, pulling away just enough to peer into her eyes. Some understanding passed between them then, some silent communication. The ship groaned, swaying back and forth, shifting their bodies, but neither of them made a move to stop it. </p><p>Some part of Nami screamed at that, even as she reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair, even as she pulled him down for a deeper kiss, tasting Death on his breath. His cigarette still dangled from her fingers, but all that really meant was that she could only pull on his hair with one hand. He murmured against her as she tugged. When he leaned away, a smile creased the corners of his mouth. </p><p>For some reason, that smile was the first moment when her resolve wavered, the first moment when the part of her brain screaming that this was a mistake actually had a shot at being heard. </p><p>Nami wasn’t inclined to listen.</p><p>She pushed his head down so she didn’t have to look at that grin. He went willingly, eagerly, sliding down her body, taking the covers with him, shuffling until he was kissing his way back up her thighs, pushing her skirt up as he went. </p><p>Nami kept a hand in his hair, like it was the wheel of a ship. As long as she held on, she could control this, could direct it, could keep it from smashing against the rocks and wrecking them both.</p><p>Her skirt was bunched up around her waist. Sanji plucked carefully at her panties, experimental. When she didn’t stop him, he slipped them down and tossed them to the floor. Then he slid his hands under her thighs and licked slowly along her pussy, savoring the entire journey. </p><p>Nami sucked in a breath. Her hand tightened in his hair, but not because she particularly wanted to direct him anywhere. He was doing a fine job of directing himself. Sanji’s tongue explored every soft crease of her folds, slow and gentle but somehow more tantalizing for that. She knew he could go harder, would, if she demanded it, but she’d let that build up in time, gathering like the waves bashing against the ship. Better to steer slow and steady than dive in too soon.</p><p>But <i>fuck</i>, slow and steady was getting tough to commit to. His tongue prodded boldly. Occasionally, his goatee would rub against her, scratchy pressure that tingled through her. </p><p>She moaned at one such scratch. He noticed, instantly doing it again. </p><p>Nami hissed through her teeth as his chin rubbed harder. It was weird. It was so freakin’ weird. But it also felt so good she gripped his hair tight and tilted her hips for more. </p><p>He seemed happy to oblige. Sanji started alternating using his tongue and his chin. The contrast of soft and wet versus hard and prickly only made each more shocking and enticing. </p><p>“Nnn,” she groaned, louder than the ship creaking around them. </p><p>Rain and wind battered the sides of the hull, but Nami couldn’t tell if she was swaying from the ship or from Sanji. Every lick, every grind of his chin, made her push her feet into the mattress and writhe with pleasure. </p><p>He put his whole mouth on her for a moment, sucking at her clit. The focused, intense attention sent a shock up Nami’s spine that had her curling. She had to be close to tearing his hair out, but he just moaned as her fingers tightened and licked at her entrance, drinking down her wetness. The noises vibrated through her, meeting her own tight arousal, two waves slamming into each other to create an even larger spray. </p><p>She couldn’t hold it back anymore. Her thighs trembled around his head. She whined something like a warning and he hummed against her, voice a tremor shaking the last bit of her resistance loose. </p><p>Nami sucked in a breath that froze in her chest as she arched up. Sanji gripped her thighs, keeping her close so he could lick and tease every quivering drop out of her. Something in her snapped, wound far, far too tightly, and heat washed out of her, a tide rushing away from the shoreline. </p><p>He just went on licking, lapping up her orgasm as it spilled out of her, not letting her rest until it had all passed. Only then did he sit up, wiping at his mouth, pale eyes keen and bright. </p><p>They were both still mostly dressed – god, why were they both still mostly dressed – but he started to unbutton his shirt then. He sat up between her trembling knees, undoing each button with deliberate slowness. A lean, toned chest emerged. The shirt slid down arms corded with muscle like the ropes that lifted the sails. </p><p>She’d never really thought about it before, but all that work just keeping this thing afloat had clearly made him strong and toned, carving him into hard planes. Nami wanted to reach out, to stroke the ripple bumping down his torso, forming a V that disappeared into his trousers, but she was still too flustered to sit up and react. Instead, she brought his cigarette to her mouth, taking a long drag, eyes raking unabashed up and down his chest as she exhaled a plume of pungent smoke. </p><p>He snorted, smiling on one side of his mouth, and picked the cigarette out of her fingers, taking a drag himself before he snuffed the thing out on her nightstand. Ordinarily she’d have something to say about that, about the soot and the mess – she didn’t have an ash tray, after all – but the motion made his chiseled torso bend and flex and she found herself too speechless to bother.</p><p>Then he started on his pants. </p><p>Nami could only blink as he discarded his trousers. He seemed utterly comfortable being totally naked before her, hard cock straining toward his belly. </p><p>Sanji leaned down, body hovering over hers, and said into her ear, “I want you.” </p><p>It was a hot burst of breath, a spark that sizzled down her throat and into her belly, and it reignited every nerve. Nami flushed all over again, startled at the speed of the reaction, but she didn’t get much time to ponder it. He rolled them both around, lying beneath her, placing her on his thighs. His cock was right in front of her, but he didn’t grab her hand or body to direct her to it. He just lay there, waiting, and she knew in that moment she could have absolutely anything she wanted, even if what she wanted was nothing. </p><p>Nami sat on his thighs. Her skirt was still bunched up around her waist, but even more stifling was her shirt. She peeled it off. Sanji’s hands tightened reflexively on her thighs, but he didn’t make a sound, simply watching as she unhooked her bra and tossed that away as well. Only when she braced her hands on his hard chest and scooted forward did a noise squeeze out of his throat, restrained and quiet. </p><p>The ship lurched. Her nails bit into his skin; his hands convulsed on her thighs. The spike of fear sent Nami scrambling for his cock. She didn’t know why, she just knew that if she lingered too long, took this too slow, the terror would seep in like seawater breaching the hull. </p><p>Nami angled him at her still wet entrance. They all groaned when she slid down – Nami, Sanji, even the ship itself. It put them in a weird sort of equilibrium as Nami fit him inside her, sitting atop him with her hands clawing at his chest. When she shifted her hips, it was almost like the ship was helping her build momentum, rocking in a way that matched Nami’s own motions. </p><p>Maybe that was just how it felt, some delusion born from lust. But he felt so right within her and each shift of her hips only made it more right, more perfect. Nami ground herself up and down his length and every little shift and shimmy only made more sparks flare bright within her, little fires popping and crackling and tingling through her. </p><p>The first time he moved, she thought maybe he was just shimmying into a better position. The second time, however, she realized he was holding back, restraining himself. When Nami looked down, his eyes were screwed shut, an expression of mingled pleasure and pain warring on his flushed face. </p><p>She leaned down, all the way down, kissing along his jaw. When she reached his ear, she said, “Don’t hold back.” </p><p>He surged into action. Nami was on her back before she finished speaking. Sanji dove for her breasts, kissing and groping even as he started thrusting into her. </p><p>She moaned and hooked her ankles over his back. He was like a man possessed. The moment she’d given permission, he’d gone from quietly restrained to feral and obsessed. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, pulling until she yelped and shivered. </p><p>He released with a wet pop. Sanji threw his entire body into pounding her then, fucking her roughly against her mattress. She clawed at his back with every jolting thrust, crying out at the ceiling, louder the storm howling around them. No amount of rocking and groaning from the ship itself could match them as they clutched each other’s flushed bodies and crashed toward a terrifying bliss together. </p><p>Nami feared it would be like shattering, feared it would be like dropping into the ocean from some great height – shocking and sudden, stealing the breath from her lungs. Already, she could hardly breathe around her own moans, lungs seizing as tight and close as the rest of her body tensed. Already, it felt like they’d left this little room and this little bed and dashed toward a cliff edge.</p><p>They hit the open air together. Sanji moaned low against her, crushing her against his body as he went rigid. Nami clenched around him, trying to get him somehow closer even with his cock deep inside her. </p><p>When they fell, it wasn’t like hitting the ocean after all. It was like standing on the shore, thinking the ground secure and solid, and finding it was sliding out from under their feet. It knocked into Nami like a wave flattening some unsuspecting shoreline. She jerked and clawed and cried out, nails scratching tracks into damp, hot skin, thighs squeezing around him. She wasn’t sure if the wetness was her or him or both, but it was everywhere, inside her, on her, clouding the air like a heavy, hot fog.</p><p>That frightening peak dragged something away with it when it receded. Some heat left with it, like the very core of her being had shed something vital. She trembled, only the weight of his body keeping her steady. </p><p>Outside, the storm abated. The ship rocked a little less, settled into its usual rhythm, creaked but did not groan. </p><p>Still, they remained entangled, breathing against each other. Sanji kissed along her shoulder, sighing and slumping atop her. </p><p>“We made it,” she said. </p><p>Only then did he stir, glancing at the ship. “The storm?”</p><p>She nodded. “I think it passed. We’re OK. We made it through.”</p><p>He smiled at himself, settling down against her, kissing her neck, nuzzling in her hair. “I didn’t even notice,” he said. </p><p>Neither had she.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please don't follow me for One Piece. This is probably a one-time thing &gt;&lt;;;;</p><p>--</p><p>I'm on <a href="https://twitter.com/purplebookcover">Twitter</a> (18+ please).</p><p>I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>